And for What?
by TattKatt
Summary: Lyra Mahariel was born and raised among the Dalish elves. It was a simple existence, but in that life she had everything she ever wanted. But as with most great journeys, life has a way of setting your feet on a path you may not want to travel.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note**: This is one of my Origins stories. The reason I am writing this is mostly because there were certain situations and conversations in the game that I thought should have been more pronounced or expanded upon. So here is me, filling in what I saw as missing pieces.

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><p>The forest seemed to hold its breath as it always did in such moments. Lyra Mahariel sighted down the arrow at the tawny hide of the deer. She waited. It was no good just wounding the animal. She would rather wait hours for a clean kill than shoot wildly and cause the animal undue pain. That was not the elven way.<p>

There was a distant twang of a bowstring. The deer leapt straight up, twisted in mid-air and bolted for the other side of the clearing. _Oh, Hells,_ she thought, and took off after it. She could see the arrow sticking out of its flank, and blood oozing from the wound. It didn't seem to be slowing him down any but fear and pain are wonderful motivators. There was a clearing up ahead, she had to reach the deer before it could gather its speed and be gone. Lyra ran madly through the wood, her wild mass of deep red hair streaming behind her as she hurtled over fallen branches and low bushes. She ran as the deer ran.

On the edge of the clearing the buck stumbled, and almost went over. The leg wasn't working right anymore, and he couldn't seem to get all four legs underneath him. Dagger in hand, she sprang.

She was holding the dying deers head in her lap when the other hunters loped up to her, Tamlen just behind them. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving in a silent prayer for the creatures spirit. The blood of the deer was staining her leathers but she didn't seem to notice. It had been quick work to cut the animals throat. It was the best way. She wouldn't allow herself tears, but her spirit wept, for the deer, and for the stupidity of those who would call themselves hunters.

"I've never seen anyone run so fast in my life, lethallan," one of the hunters panted jovially. "Good thing too. We would never have caught him." Lyra looked up at him and her eyes flashed. It was Palin, the would-be hunter. They had been raised at the same fire, Palin was a few years older than her, and though not blood related, they had been raised as siblings. Recognition flashed over his face as he drew nearer. "_Len'alas lath'din_," he muttered, not quite under his breath. "What are you doing here?"

"We were hunting these forests today. You knew that," she said quietly. She had never liked Palin, or his friend Fenarel, who seemed to follow him around like a dog. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was dirt or insulted her in elvish when he thought no one could hear him. Maybe it was the way all the younger hunters in the clan looked up to him. In the end it didn't matter, they were clan-mates, but in no way were they friends. Lyra slowly laid the deers head on the blood soaked grass and stood up. "You knew we were hunting these forests today," she repeated, still advancing. "You stole a deer that was rightfully mine by wounding the poor animal to make it run."

"Your deer?" He shrugged as if it didn't matter in the least. "You wouldn't kill it, so I did."

"You killed it?" she said incredulously. _She had just outrun a deer, right? Exactly how had _he _killed it?_ "I was waiting for a clean kill. Not this!" she spread her hands toward the deer, its coat still flecked from the sweat of pain and fear. "I don't loose an arrow wildly in the hopes that it hits something. I am a hunter." She was advancing on Palin now. Tamlen could see the rage building within her.

"Don't do anything foolish," Tamlen said, eying the group warily.

Palin spun towards him. "Don't you-"

"I wasn't talking to you." The two hunters glared at one another. The other young hunters saw Palin of something of a hero. The youngest hunter to ever slay a wolf. No mention was made of how old the wolf was, or that it had been caught in a pit trap for days and would have died soon anyway. But Palin had returned to camp carrying the dead wolf. So, he was the hero. Tamlen knew all this but he had said nothing. The clan needed heroes. It was just infinitely depressing that Palin was the best they could come up with.

Lyra wasn't going for her daggers but Tamlen knew she could do just as much damage without them when she was in a rage. "Lyra..." he warned but she shrugged him off.

"I don't know why you hate me, Palin. And I care even less," she continued, her voice low and cold as ice. "You are arrogant, barbaric, and ignorant of all that is Dalish. You are the worst insult to the Elvhen. _Halam sahlin_, Palin"

"Look here you little whelp..." he spat the word as if it were a curse.

And she hit him.

Several hours later the four of them were standing in front of Keeper Marethari, each looking shamefaced, though Lyra could see Palin smirking at her when the Keepers back was turned.

"_Abelas_," the Keeper sighed, her voice sounding frail and ancient with a hint of sadness. "It is a sad day indeed when the Children of the Clan make war upon one another." She turned to look at the group and her voice hardened. "I am told you four were brawling. Palin? You say you were simply hunting in the forest when these two attacked you, without provocation?"

"Yes, Keeper," Palin said, bowing slightly. "We had just killed a deer when-" Keeper Marethari held up a hand, stopping him in mid sentence.

"And you?" she said, looking intensely at Lyra and Tamlen. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Before Lyra could say anything Tamlen stepped forward. "It was my fault, Keeper."

"Oh? Go on."

"I hid among the trees and attacked them as they passed by. It was meant to be a joke but it just got out of hand. Lyra wasn't involved," he said hurriedly when the Keeper turned towards her. "In fact, she was trying to get us to stop fighting."

The Keepers eyes widened, "Really? We should all be so lucky as to experience such a change of character. Until now I had been sure it was Lyra herself who started all this, though I was sure she had been provoked." She stared hard at Palin as she said this. There was a lengthy silence in which not one of the four hunters moved, each one trying not to flinch under the intensity of the Keepers gaze. When the silence had held for a fraction longer than Tamlen thought was strictly necessary, the Keeper sighed and waved them away. "Very well, you may go. Tamlen? Stay."

Palin and Fenarel left, openly grinning now. _What are you grinning at?_ Tamlen thought. _You didn't get away with anything. I just saved your hides_. Tamlen realized he was scowling when he felt Lyras hand gently touch his arm before she too left. It was all the thanks he needed.

Keeper Marethari waited until she was sure they were alone, then she sighed heavily. "I know Lyra is responsible for this, Tamlen."

Tamlen managed to sound truly shocked. "No, Keeper. I started the fight. Lyra wasn't even-"

The Keeper held up her hand. "Be silent, _da'len_, and listen for once. Lyra and Palin have been crosswise with each other since they were children. It is not the first time this has happened and I doubt it will be the last. Who do you think you are protecting?"

"No one, Keeper."

"You are trying my patience, and there is little enough of it left. Palin with be First among our hunters one day and I can not have our two best hunters fighting one another. Now, tell me what really happened in the forest, then I can decide what is necessary."

For an instant Tamlen was torn. He could tell the Keeper everything. About the deer, the wolf. The things Palin had said and done and thought no one knew about. But no. He wasn't a tale-teller. Better he just take whatever came.

"It is as I said, Keeper. I attacked them, a foolish prank that got out of hand."

Marethari sighed in perpetual frustration. "Very well, Tamlen. What do you propose I do with you?"

Tamlen thought for a moment. "You could just let me off with a warning?" Marethari's expression hardened. "But now that I think about it you usually send me to run errands for Merrill."

"And do you enjoy picking herbs and learning the ways of a healer?"

"Not really, Keeper. I'd really rather be hunting."

"Good. Go see what herbs Merrill requires for her potions." Tamlen sighed dramatically, though he knew it was coming, still it was better than it could have been. "Do try to stay out of trouble, _da'len_, and for the Creators sake and that of my patience, stay away from Palin," the Keeper called after him as he headed off to find Merrill.

He hadn't gone far before Lyra caught up with him. She had changed out of her blood stained hunting leathers into a light cloth dress. It was the only thing she had of her mothers and now it fit her perfectly. "Hey," she said cautiously, falling in step with him.

"Hey yourself." He tried to maintain his stoic expression as he turned his gaze to meet hers, and failed.

Both their faces broke into broad smiles and she took his hand.

"Come on," she said, leading him off the path into the trees that lined the edge of the camp. He let himself be led, watching the way she moved, the way her wild dark hair caught the sunlight and suddenly flashed deep red. When had she grown up? He wondered. They had known each other all their lives. The elders said they could have been twins they were so inseparable. He had watched her grow and change and he had done the same. But when had she become this beautiful woman? Wasn't it just yesterday they had been catching frogs in a mud bog and pelting each other with dirt? But suddenly they weren't children anymore. He was taller than her now, more muscular, but she was lean and agile. Every movement had purpose, she wasted nothing, and nothing was wasted on her either. He watched her flowing body moving gracefully through the trees. Her legs, long and slender but strong like the halla, her compact body, firm and toned, the fabric of the dress clinging to her skin in the soft breeze. Her clan tattoos, the _vallaslin_, flowed across her shoulders and down her back before disappearing beneath the cloth. He wondered idly if they covered her whole body

She turned round and smiled at him, and the way the light danced in her eyes took his breath away. "Having fun back there?" she said and jokingly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Just enjoying the view," he chuckled.

"You're not so bad yourself. Even with a black eye," she laughed.

"Thanks, I'd almost forgotten," he muttered touching the slightly swollen eye. "Fenarel just got in a lucky hit. How come you never get hit by the way? For all the scraps we get into you never have a mark on you." Tamlen let his eyes roam over her perfect skin.

"The reason I don't get hit," she said pointedly, poking a finger into his chest, "is because I... duck!" She spun away laughing and began loping through the forest, daring him to chase her, which he did. How could he not? He had been chasing Lyra Mahariel his entire life.

She had let him catch her eventually, she always did. And they had laughed about it as they walked further away from the camp. The forest had opened up into wide meadows and rolling hillsides. The setting sun was painting her oranges, pinks, and purples on the sky above and Lyra sat down in the tall grass to watch. Tamlen sat down beside her and without a word she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. He wished this moment could last forever. He would always have the memory of it though. He could wrap it up and take it with him so later on he could take it out and remember what it was like to have everything he could ever want.

"So what did Keeper Marathari say?" she said at last, lifting her gaze to meet his.

"Oh, just a couple days helping Merrill gather herbs. And I'm supposed to stay away from Palin," he snorted. "I think that's just about everyone in camp I'm supposed to stay away from now. Some of them twice." He grinned at her. "Sometimes I think I should just tell the Keeper the truth. That its YOU that gets me into all this trouble."

"So why don't you?" Lyra's voice was so quiet he almost missed it. He looked at her, usure if she had actually spoken. She was staring into her lap, she had taken out the small deer he had carved for her and was caressing it gently. "Why dont you tell the Keeper? Why didn't you tell her what happened in the forest? That I started the fight?"

"Oh right. So I tell the Keeper I'm innocent of everything, its all Lyra's fault?" They were silent for a long time, then "It is you're fault, you know." He was grinning at her again.

She punched him playfully in the arm and he laughed. "Sometimes I think you do it just so you get to spend more time with Merrill," she teased.

"Jealous?"

"Who am I to say who you should spend your time with?" she said in a slightly pouty voice as she jumped to her feet and started heading back toward camp. He jumped up and caught her arm before she could spin away once more, and pulled her close.

"And what if I want to spend it with you?" Tamlen said in a low voice. "_Ma emma sa'lath_," he breathed. _You are my one love_. Their faces were inches apart, he could feel her breath on his skin, the feel of her body so close to him. Lyra felt it too, the closeness, the spark of something that was way beyond friendship. He had been with her all her life, trying to protect her from everyone and everything, even from herself. Somehow he took the rest of the world away and replaced it with something better. Looking up into his smoldering eyes, feeling his arms around her, she closed her eyes.

"Lyra! Lyra Mahariel, you come back to camp. Come now, _da'len_, its getting dark." The voice carried over the hills, shattering her perfect moment.

"That would be Ashalle," she sighed. "You would think eventually she would stop trying to mother me."

Tamlen's gaze held hers for a long while before he finally found his voice. "We should probably get back anyway," he cleared his throat. "The Keepers probably already sent out the search party when I didn't go straight to see Merrill. And as for Ashalle, you know she's just trying to look out for you. Make sure you don't go getting into trouble."

"What, like you?"

"You're fault," he said grinning. She hit him again and stuck out her tongue. "Oh, yeah very mature."

"Shut up."

"Lyra!" the voice came again.

"I'm coming," Lyra called back, trying to keep the edge of frustration out of her voice. She turned to Tamlen. "Shall we?" she said, and headed off back up the hill. Tamlen took a few moments to pick some random herbs and wildflowers for Merrill's study, but more as an effort to get some composure before jogging after her.

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><p>*Dalish phrases adapted from Dragon Age Wiki<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note**: A lot of the dialogue in this chapter is straight out of the game. The idea for the story wasn't really to create a new story, but rather to add in the bits I thought were missing, only changing a few minor things. In this chapter you'll see another side of Lyra and a hint of what she will become.

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><p>Palin seemed to be avoiding her for the next few days. Which was fine as far as she was concerned, she had no burning desire to see him either. She kept out of the Keepers way as well. She had a feeling the Keeper knew what had really happened in the woods and was waiting for one of them to cave in and tell her. Well it wasn't going to be her, Lyra thought. Tamlen had taken a risk by claiming responsibility for the brawl, and though the Keeper seemed inclined to be lenient, she knew better than to think any of them were off the hook just yet.<p>

Craftmaster Varathorn had arrived from a neighboring clan and she had been instructed to assist him and Master Ilen, should they need anything. Her own mini-punishment, she guessed, but she didn't mind. She enjoyed watching how a bow or fine blade was crafted, picking up what bits of lore she could from the masters. Even if she would much rather be out in the wilds putting that bow or blade to use, but Ashalle had asked her not to stray too far from camp. It grated on her how the woman was still trying to protect her, even though she was a full hunter and could very well take care of herself. But, out of deference to the woman who had raised her she busied herself about the camp, making herself useful to the two craftsmen and only straying to the quiet and solitude of the forest when she knew she wouldn't be missed.

She found herself being drawn more and more toward the human village. Not for any practical purpose. There was nothing a shemlen could teach her that she would want to know. But for some other reason. The village was growing into a town. And she instinctively knew the camp was too close. She had no illusions of what the humans would do if they found the Dalish camped so close to their village. She had been raised on stories of how the humans had enslaved her people for hundreds of years. How they forgot almost all their Lore and even their language under the cruel hand of their human masters. She had listened at the campfires as the elders told tales of how humans stole naughty elven children in the dead of night and they were never heard from again. Humans were the threat that kept every Dalish child on his best behavior, well for the most part. She had grown up and forgotten most of these tales. She feared humans, but not for the childish reasons of her youth, but for the practical reasons of freedom and safety. But that was before. Before anyone told her how her parents had died at the hands of humans. She was sure Palin had said it just to be mean, but she knew the truth of it all the same. No one else in the camp would speak of it, especially not to her. But the stony faces when she asked were all the answer she needed.

Hate was an unfamiliar thing to her. She did not even hate Palin, disliked him sure, but not hate. In that moment she knew hate. Suddenly, she had someone to blame. All the pent up rage and frustration at the circumstances of her life were suddenly channeled into one specific direction. Humans. Yes, she hated humans. Hated how they looked, how they smelled, how they acted, how they walked upon the ground as if they owned it. Did they own the air as well? They probably thought they did. Fools, bah!

So why then did she find herself draw to the village? Why did she watch them so closely? Listen to every word they spoke? She told herself it was to know her enemy better. To know in advance if a hunting party was about to venture too close to the camp. But even as she thought these things she knew them to be lies. What she really wanted was to get one alone. To see why they were so terrifying. And perhaps even to sink her blade into a shemlen's heart.

Lyra hadn't told anyone of this. Not even Tamlen. In a clan where everyone shared everything, this was something she kept for herself. She had noticed too how Palin had started behaving more and more like a human. No one else could see it. It was little things, the way he spoke, the way he walked. Unless you had spent a lot of time watching humans, you never would have noticed. She noticed.

She turned away from the village, quelling the rage burning inside her. Someone would start looking for her soon, best to get back.

Lyra wasn't even halfway back to the camp when she heard running feet. It wasnt the soft rustlings of the Dalish hunters, whose sounds were usually lost in the background noises of the forest. These were heavy boots, stomping through the forest. The footsteps stopped abruptly with a cry of "It's a Dalish!" and for a second she thought she had been spotted but the voice was too far away, too many trees and bushes muffling its sound. She crept to the edge of a ravine and looked down on three humans who had suddenly found themselves staring down the length of one of Tamlen's arrows.

"And you three are somewhere you shouldn't be!" Tamlens voice had an edge that she had never heard before. They had rarely encountered humans, face to face. Usually they could avoid the random hunting or scouting partys. Listening to him now she wondered if he didn't hate humans just as much as she. Lyra skirted the edge of the low ravine and slipped down around a bend where they would not see her. Then she strung her bow and crept closer to the group. The humans were still talking.

"Let us pass elf. You have no right to stop us." He appeared to be the leader of the three. At least he saw it as his responsibility to speak for the rest.

"No? We will see about that won't we?" Tamlen saw her out of the corner of his eye, but kept his arrow trained on the first human. The one who thought he had "rights" "You're just in time." He nodded to her as she stepped out of the bushes. "I found these three... humans lurking in the bushes. Bandits no doubt." She moved beside Tamlen, who was still keeping his aim on the speaker. Her arrow was trained on the last man, he had a knife on his belt, and looked like he was just stupid enough to try to use it.

"We aren't bandits, I swear. Please don't hurt us," the second man said, nervous eyes flitting back and forth between the two armed Dalish elves.

"You shemlen are pathetic," Tamlen sneered. "Its hard to believe you ever drove us from our homeland."

"We've never done nothing to you, Dalish. We didn't even know this forest was yours." How like a shemlen, to think the forest could be owned.

"This forest isn't ours, fool. You've stumbled too close to our camp. You shems are like vermin... We can't trust you not to make mischief. What do you say lethallan? What should we do with them?"

Lyra didn't even hesitate. "Kill them," she snarled. "the others will never know."

"I like the sound of that." Tamlen's humorless smile widened as he drew the bowstring back a little further preparing to fire. "Anything to say in you're defense, shem?"

"Look, we didn't come here to be trouble We found a cave."

"Yes, the cave," the second human joined in. "With ruins like I've never seen. We were hoping to find-"

"Treasure?" Tamlen snarled. "So you're more akin to thieves than actual bandits."

"We know these forests, shem. There are caves, but no ruins. You lie." Lyra was ready to kill all three of them right there. _What was Tamlen waiting for?_

"I have proof.. Here, we found this just inside the entrance." As the leader spoke he pulled a small stone tablet out of a pouch on his belt and handed it to Tamlen.

Tamlen took the piece of stone and a look of confusion crossed his face. "This stone has carvings... is this elvish? Written Elvish?" he demanded. Lyra was now trying to cover all three humans, Tamlen having lowered his bow to examine the carvings. She had tried to see them herself but the etchings meant nothing to her. _Come on, come on, come on, come on..._

"There's more in the ruins. We didn't get very far in though..."

"Why not?" she demanded. Her patience had long since reached its end and even though she was curious about these so called elven ruins, temper beats outs curiosity every time.

"There was a demon! Huge with black eyes. Thank the maker we were able to outrun it." _Yes_, Lyra thought, _Managed to outrun a demon and in so doing ran straight into us..._

"A demon?" Tamlen scoffed, but then his eyes turned hard and he raised his bow once more. "Where are these caves?"

Just off to the west, I think. There's a cave in the rock face, and a huge hole just inside."

"Well? Do you believe them? Shall we let them go?" _He was asking her? Why in the world was he asking her?_

"So they can bring a mob to drive us out? Kill them all."

"Yes. One could expect no less from a shem. This wont take long." Lyra had already loosed her first arrow, killing the man with the knife, who, just as she thought, had pulled it free and was charging her. The second man, the whiny one, had taken off at a run as soon as she had given her answer, but her second arrow had caught him between the ribs before he had run more than a few yards. The leader of the three had gone down where he stood, the shocked expression still on his slightly sagging face.

Tamlen looked around as if he had thought there were more of them and was suddenly puzzled that there seemed to be only three. Then, as if deciding that all the humans had indeed been accounted for he turned to Lyra, who was watching the body of the whiny man with apparent interest.

"Well," he said, with almost forced cheerfulness. "Shall we go see if there is any truth to their story? These carvings make me curious." Then he heard it. The harsh, bubbling, wheezing sound of a man drowning in his own blood. Lyra came closer to the dying man, still just watching. He was moving, as if trying to crawl away. "Uh, Lyra? Are you going to-"

"No," she said flatly and continued to stare at the dying man. No, she wasn't going to slit his throat and spare him the agony of a slow death. No, she would not show him that mercy, that kindness. Humans didn't deserve it.

She watched until the man stopped moving and the harsh rasping sound had died away. Then she stood up, looking around the small clearing at the bottom of the ravine, as if seeing it, and Tamlen for the first time. Tamlen was watching her cautiously, as if fully expecting her to attack him, or scream, or something. He was sure anything would be better than the quiet detachment and utter indifference to the corpses around her. Her eyes found his and she smiled brightly at him. "Are we going?"

"What about the bodies?" Tamlen asked, still slightly worried about his friend.

Lyra shrugged. "Wolves will drag them off soon enough I imagine." She took his hand, smiling again and leading him towards the west. "Come on. Can't be far. Don't these carvings make you curious?"

He wondered if she realized that she had just repeated what he had said only minutes before. But, Lyra seemed to be her old self again. Happy, carefree, and eager to get him into trouble. Finally he returned her smile. "And if we find anything, the keeper will want to know."

"Exactly! Now come on," she tugged at his hand again and they set off through the trees.

They made their way up the ravine. Further along, somewhere above the ravine, a pack of wolves had taken down a young halla, but they were too concerned with their fresh kill to notice the two elves slinking along the ravine floor. The trail was easy enough to follow. Broken branches, scarred earth and the occasional heavy boot print were all evidence of the shemlens hasty passage. A child could have followed this trail. Even without the damage to the forest, the humans seemed to have simply following the cut in the forest. The brushy walls of the ravine narrowed and became stone cliffs rising high above their heads, the vegetation on the floor of the canyon as also thinning out. The dirt and grass floor becoming rock beneath their feet.

Lyra stopped suddenly, silently pointing in the distance at the stone arches had been carved out of the rock and rose above the canyon walls. The crept along more slowly now, bows at the ready. Neither of them believed the humans tale of a demon lurking within the caves but they knew that other creatures did. Bears or wolves might have taken up residence, and more than likely it was one of these that had frightened the humans and drove them into the hunters. Blackened vines bearing thorns sharp as needles littered the rocky ground and tugged at their feet and ankles. As they drew closer they could see that the vines had climbed the stone pillars that supported the arches and seemed to be reaching out , scratching at their faces and tangling themselves in Lyra's hair.

The tops of the canyon walls closed over them as the walls grew closer and closer together, and suddenly they realized they could no longer see sky above them. The transition from canyon to cave was so gradual neither of them had noticed until they were already well within the darkening passage.

Tamlen stopped, suddenly nervous. "This must be the cave," he said warily. "I don't recall seeing this before, do you?"

Lyra looked around, strapping her bow to her back and unsheathing her daggers. Bows were fine in open areas where you could get some range, but utterly useless in caves where close combat was almost a certainty. "No, I haven't," she replied. A mischievous glint shone in her eye. "Lets check it out."

"My thoughts exactly," Tamlen agreed, grinning. "With luck, we'll find something that will make us clan heroes!"

_Instead of clan outcasts?_ She thought. "We should be wary, though. Demon or no, there could be anything lurking in here."

"Always the careful one," said Tamlen, who put away his own bow and readied his sword and shield. "Fine, but I'm not running back to the Keeper until I know if there's anything worth making a fuss over," he grumbled, but cheered almost instantly. "Come on, lets at least see whats there. How dangerous could it be?"

"The shemlen have a saying for statements like that," she teased, "Famous last words."

He laughed, but was giving her a curious look. "How do you know?"

"I just heard it somewhere," she shrugged and started further into the cave. "Come on, Ser Adventurer. Or I'm gonna take all the good stuff and you can go back empty handed." She started heading further into the cave. She was daring him again.

"Yeah right," he called after her. "You don't even know what the "good stuff" is!" He followed her down the cramped tunnel.

It soon opened up into a larger cavern, though perhaps the better word would have been room. For now the place definitely seemed constructed. Broad stone cobbles on the floor and square brick for the walls, carvings decorated the pillars and supports. And there was a door.

"It looks like the shem was telling the truth," Tamlen said slowly. "But these ruins look more human than elven."

Lyra said nothing. The roots of giant trees had forced their way through the stone at some point, letting in some daylight in places and at other times completely blocking passages. The door seemed their only option and she moved towards it cautiously. Something didn't feel right, there was something else...

A giant spider dropped from the ceiling almost knocking her over with its weight, she looked over and saw another drop in front of Tamlen. _Bet he's glad he's carying his sword,_ she thought as she stabbed at the spider. then there was no time for thought. She dodged the deadly pincers and spitting web of the spider, slashing at whatever came at her until she finally sank her blade into a soft area in the spiders armor and heard it screech as it fell onto its back, its legs curling up on its belly. She turned to help Tamlen and as she did so she heard the second death shriek as Tamlen sliced the relatively small head off the other spider and it too curled up and died.

"They never showed us how to fight giant spiders," he said panting. "They never even told us there WERE giant spiders." She went to his side, shaking slightly. She had noticed that there seemed to be an extraordinary amount of webs climbing the walls of the cave, for lack of a better word. But she had dismissed it as years and years worth of creepy crawlies making use of the tunnels. She hadn't expected this. She poked one of the spider corpses with the point of her blade, not really to see if it was dead or not, the thing didn't have a head, how could it still be alive? But more to reassure herself that these creatures were real, solid, and not some kind of mind trick.

"Come on," she said. And they made their way towards the door once more, avoiding any and all spider webs, in case the vibrations brought more of the creatures down upon them. She had also seen some sort of cocoon hanging from the ceiling and noticed it had a distinctly human or perhaps elven shape to it. From the look on Tamlen's face, he had seen it too. She was not going to end up like that.

Through the doorway they entered into a long corridor. More tree roots, and spider webs. The walls had been shored up in places with rough hewn beams and planks. There were torches down here too, Lyra noticed. Lit torches. She supposed the humans could have lit them, but they had said they only made it a little way in and she could see flickering torchlight all the way down the corridor in both directions. What else was in these ruins? Something intelligent enough to avoid the spiders and light the lamps. Or perhaps it was simply very old magic keeping the flames alight. She had never had a sense for magic, though her mother had supposedly been quite the healer. She had not passed any of that to her daughter, however, and Lyra was almost glad of that. If she had, she might have been made Keepers apprentice instead of Merrill, and that just sounded incredibly dull.

_This definitely isn't dull_, she thought trying to see as far down the corridor as she could. Tree roots and fallen stone littered the passage in both directions, but they seemed clear enough. _Only one way to find out._

She suddenly realized that Tamlen wasn't beside her anymore. She spun around to find him standing behind her, still on the other side of the doorway, looking thoughtful and slightly worried.

"There's a long corridor here," she said. "Which way do we go?"

He came through the door and looked down the passage. "Right," he said, taking a small knife from his belt and notching an "I" into one of the nearby roots on the right side of the door. When he was finished he nodded to her and the continued down the hallway.

Once plated with smooth stone slabs, the floor now bulged and erupted in places, presumably by roots and other plants as they stretched through the earth. A few places they had to climb over fallen debris from the walls and ceiling, but even this damage had seemed to have happened a long time ago. There were carvings and statues on the walls. She didn't recognize any of it, but Tamlen paused by each new figure, examining it closely.

They had gone in this halting pace in silence for a long while it seemed before Tamlen spoke. "This place makes me nervous," he said finally, stepping over the corpse of a long dead spider. His voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the ruin.

Lyra stomped down the worries in her own mind and turned back to him, smiling in a way that made all his worries disappear. "So talk, if that will make you feel better." She felt like she should be whispering, but seriously doubted it would have helped.

"I suppose so... Hey, weren't you supposed to be assisting Master Varathorn today? How'd you end up coming with me?"

"I wanted to be with you, of course," Lyra said, as if It was a forgone conclusion that wherever Tamlen was, Lyra wouldn't be far behind. But she was thinking of the human village.

"I kind of thought that might be the case," he said, his cheeks reddening as he started to blush. "I'm glad." He knew she felt the same way about him as he did of her. But having her say it, still made him feel shy and awkward, like he was still only twelve seasons, giving her gifts, trying to win her favor. She never said she loved him, she didn't have to. They had simply always known. He coughed. "Lets just find whatever we can and get out of here."

They continued on, Tamlen still wondering how she could still make him blush so easily, when only a few days ago he had held her in his arms and...

Lyra crouched down and held up a hand. Tamlem crouched down beside her. The corridor turned sharply to the left here and Lyra was staring into the gloom on the floor. Whatever it was she saw on the floor, he couldn't see it, but it was troubling her. Then, still crouching she made her way toward the object. He heard several sharp clicks then she was back, tucking the thin metal blade back into its sheath at her belt.

"Trap," she said simply. "I took care of it but there could be more around. Step only where I step."

Tamlen nodded and they stood up. He wasn't about to argue with the second best trapsmith in the clan, and he wouldn't let himself think about who could have set the traps, or lit the torches for that matter. A few steps further and the passage opened up into another larger room. There were spiders. They came from all sides. Tamlen could get a bit of range here and he grabbed his bow, nocking an arrow in the same motion. Lyra charged the closest spider. She knew where to strike now. She knew it didn't matter near as much how hard you drove your blade, as long as you drove it into the right spot. Tamlen fired his arrows at the spiders, loosing them almost as soon as they were nocked. If he could do some damage and keep the spiders distracted long enough, Lyra would finish them off one by one. It was a strategy they had worked out a log time ago. They were both excellent marksman, but Lyra was quicker with her blades and Tamlen could put more force behind his arrows. They were a team, and the team worked.

The giant spiders were dead in a matter of minutes. The one that had gone for Tamlen before Lyra could dispatch it had been put down by a single arrow through one of its eyes. They were both panting from the exertion but they looked at each other and grinned. Tamlen brushed a hand through his short blond hair and sighed. Then his smile froze.

"You're hurt!" he said, rushing over to where Lyra stood amid the corpses.

"Huh?" she said, slightly bewildered, then she noticed the blood dripping down her arm. "It's just a scratch." She shrugged, it hadn't even started stinging yet. She wondered if the spiders were poisonous, but judging from the size of the creatures she guessed if they were, she would probably be paralyzed or dead by now. Tamlen produced a cloth from the small pack he always carried and wiped away the blood so that he could better see the wound.

"I'm fine, Tamlen," she repeated trying to pull away but he held her arm firmly and scowled at her, as if daring her to protest. She sighed and let him apply a bandage, smeared with a greenish sort of paste he got out of a jar that had also been in his pack. The pain started as soon as the bandage touched the cut, which was really quite a bit more than just a scratch. "Where'd you get that?" she asked through gritted teeth. It looked and smelled like one of Merrill's concoctions.

"Merrill made up this pack for me," he confirmed. "She said with all the trouble I got into I would probably need it. I guess it was a sort of thank you for helping her so much." He looked up and saw the look on Lyra's face. "Don't look at me like that. I can tell what you're thinking, and you can just put it out of your head." She continued to glare at him. "Hey now, I don't make faces when I see the way Fenarel looks at you."

"What?" she roared, pulling away from him. "Fenarel is Palin's little lap dog and he would never... I would never..." She stopped when she saw his face. He was trying hard to contain the laughter but it was bursting from every seam. She punched his arm, which made her own arm hurt, and tried to glare at him but Tamlen's laughter was infectious.

"Sometimes I really hate you," she said, stifling a few giggles of her own.

"Come on," he said when the laughter had subsided enough for him to speak. "Let's get going."


	3. Chapter 3

The room Tamlen and Lyra had entered was larger than the first. There were a lot more webs here, a lot more cocoons hanging from the ceiling as well. Piles of rubble littered the floor where the ceiling had fallen in, letting in some daylight. There were gaping holes in the floor itself, as well, where the stonework had fallen away from the wooden beams that supported it into a yawning black cavern below. There was a door to their left, and ahead of them what looked like a continuation of the passage they had come out of, turning left again a few yards in. To their right appeared to be a spiders nest. Cobwebs covered the entire wall except for where tree roots had broken through, and silk lined tunnels had been burrowed, spreading outwards through the surrounding stone. The web seemed to cover a lot of the floor in that direction as well, and since neither of them was sure they had killed all the spiders, they weren't going to risk alerting any others.

"Seems we have a choice again," Lyra said as she ventured to the open passage and looked down the hall. "I really can't see anything down here. Seems to go on forever."

Tamlen walked over to the door, carefully avoiding the webs and stepping over fallen debris. "Let's see what's in here first," he said, swinging the door open. He was about to walk through when he felt himself being dragged backward. Lyra was there, a half panicked and panting heavily.

"I did tell you only to step where I step, right?" she said, still breathing hard from sprinting after him. She pointed at the floor on the other side of the doorway and his face went white. There was a large square plate that seemed to sit slightly higher than the surrounding stones. A large scorch mark blackened the center of it and the charred husk of a giant spider lay not far away. "That could have been you," she breathed. They stared at each other a while. The reality of the ruins had come flooding back, and down here, reality wasn't very nice.

She went to work on the pressure plate with her various tools while Tamlen notched another mark in the door frame. Lyra soon stood, declaring that it was now safe to continue, and reminded him to step only where she did. There was another pressure plate in front of the door at the other end of the short hallway and she disabled that as well. That door opened onto more spiders.

They killed them quickly, now having some understanding of the creatures vulnerabilities and continued on into the room. It was almost identical to the one they had just left, complete with the spider webs that covered the far wall. A door on the left wall proved to be locked, and even Lyra's skill could not turn the bolt. The door opposite was guarded by yet another trap.

"What do you think?" Tamlen asked as she worked over the trap. "Do we go back and see whats down that other hall?"

"I don't know," she muttered. "Though I have to say I'm glad you were leaving those markers. I'm so turned around right now I don't think I could spit straight."

Tamlen stared at her a moment then laughed. She said some of the strangest things. "Well lets go back to the entrance and get our bearings. Head up the other leg of that first hallway and see where we get."

She nodded, and they set off the way they'd come, with Lyra in the lead keeping a watchful eye out for more traps. Their nervousness was back but they were somehow more at ease for traveling over familiar ground. They saw no more traps, and no more spiders had been alerted to their presence. They passed the door they had entered through and continued on in silence till they reached the end of the corridor where it made a sharp right hand turn and were confronted by a door. Lyra cautiously pushed it open and stared at the floor. On the other side of the door was the trap she had just finished disabling. She knew it was the same one, she could see the marks where her tools had marred the stone.

"Blast," she muttered. "Do all these tunnels run in circles? What kind of ignorant layout is that?"

Tamlen had seen it too and seemed to be deep in thought. "The kind that's easy to understand," he said. "Look." He pulled out his knife and found a patch of exposed ground. He drew a rough map of the corridors and rooms they had been in, marking doors and hallways they had not yet explored. "So if you look at it like this," he said finally. "This corridor runs parallel to short hallway where the fire traps were with the rooms on either end. That means the only place we haven't been is the corridor on the far side, over here. See? The locked door is probably the end of the other passage."

She stared at the scratch marks on the ground for a while and then said, "I don't suppose you could have drawn that on a piece of parchment or bark or something we could have carried with us?"

Tamlen sighed dramatically. "We won't get lost, all right? We don't need it written down, I've got it in my head now." She still looked doubtful. "I'll keep notching the walls if it will make you happy."

Finally she nodded and they set off again. She wondered how long they had been down here. Underground she lost all sense of time and space. She couldn't even tell her north and south down here. _Well, Tamlen said he had a map in his head, _she thought. _Good for him. _And they continued on.

It took a lot less time to reach the unexplored passage, with Tamlen in the lead now that the threat of traps seemed to be taken care of. When they reached the entrance to the unmapped corridor, Lyra once again took the lead. She was better at spotting traps and snares, but there were none as far as she could see. There was something else, though.

"Tamlen?" she said nervously.

"Yeah?"

"There are bodies down here... Four or five of them at least."

"I see them."

"Whatever killed them-"

"Is long gone, Lyra." He put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Strange how she could watch a man die with detached interest, but was nervous in the presence of these long dead corpses. It was this place, had to be. It was getting to them. "Don't worry," he tried to sound reassuring. "These corpses have been down here for ages. They're little more than bones, almost all their flesh has returned to the earth." She shuddered at the description but started forward all the same, stepping gingerly over the decaying bodies.

There was a statue of some kind on the wall opposite an alcove with an ornate pair of double doors. It appeared that whatever this place had been built for, this was probably it. As they approached, they saw that the figure appeared to be an elf in long flowing robes. It had outspread wings that looked more like the leaves of a holly bush than any kind of wings either of them had ever seen. Her arms were spread at her sides, and in one hand she held a long golden spear. The odd looking wings on her back also had a golden sheen, though the rest of the statue was stone. Tamlen stared at the statue in wonder. "I can't believe this," he said at last. "You recognize this statue, don't you?"

Lyra shrugged, Lore was not her strong suit. "It's very worn, but it does look vaguely familiar."

"Back when our people lived in Arlathan, statues like these honored the Creators. When the _shems_ enslaved us, most of that lore was lost. This looks like human architecture, with a statue of our people. Could these ruins date back to the time of Arlathan?" The air of wonder in his voice surprised her. Tamlen took every opportunity to learn more of their peoples history, while she considered herself to be more practical. If it didn't help her find food or protect the clan, she really wasn't that interested.

"We're a long way from Arlathan, Tamlen," she sighed.

"We must have lived in other places too. Even if elves didn't live here, the architects knew of our gods. This looks like a very old human place, with elven artifacts in it. Why did they build it? Maybe our ancestors lived here, in caves like the dwarves."

"Perhaps, but there's not much left down here," she said doubtfully.

He sighed, as he looked at the statue. The tip of the spear was gone, and part of one wing had broken off. "Time and decay have taken their toll. But still, there's got to be something of value."

She watched him as he studied the statue as if memorizing every detail, and filling in the pieces that were missing. "How'd you know about this statue anyway?" she asked finally. "I don't remember seeing anything like this around camp."

He shrugged and turned away from the statue. "I saw a picture of it in one of the old books the Keeper never lets anyone touch." She gave him a disapproving look. "And no I wasn't snooping or stealing or anything else you may think," he said. "That's what you would do." She made a face at him and he laughed. "Keeper Marathari had it open on her work table the other day and I just saw it is all. It was one of the old gods, the Keeper called him a 'friend of the dead'." They both turned back to face the idol.

"'Friend of the dead'?" she asked with a frown. "What does that mean?"

"He was a guide who took people across the spirit land to their final rest in the Beyond. He wasn't an evil god, not like _Fen'Harel_. It just doesn't seem right that place so... wrong... would be his."

She looked at him with a dawning appreciation. "I'm starting to think I should have paid more attention when the _Haren_ was talking," she said grinning. "You sure did." He grinned back at her and shrugged. She looked back to the statue. "So much of our history was lost. If we could reclaim a piece of it..." her voice trailed off as she stared over Tamlen's shoulder.

"In all the lore I have heard, I'd never have guessed that ancient elves might have lived here, with humans!" he said, excitement still edging his voice.

"Tamlen..."

"Doesn't feel like anyone lived here though. I keep thinking that we've disturbed something."

"Tamlen?"

"Like we've walked into a dragons lair.."

"Tamlen!" she shouted and spun him away from the statue. "Not dragons," she said, and pointed.

Two of the corpses, little more than skeletons though they may be, had risen from the ground, snarling in a raspy way and gnashing their teeth. Their ancient weapons were gripped clumsily in what was left of their hands, but that mattered little. The idea was to kill your enemy before he could kill you, and if your enemy was already dead and still attacking, the odds were probably not in your favor.

"Are those walking corpses?" Tamlen said, terror edging his voice. "This place must be haunted!"

Lyra drew her twin daggers and steadied herself. _They died once, they can die again,_ she thought, not sure at all if this was the case. She saw Tamlen ready his bow and wondered if the walking corpses would even notice an arrow.

"Sword," she called to him. "Cut off their hands, no hands, no swords. Then go for the head." The corpses were moving closer. They were clumsy and slow, like they had forgotten how to use their legs and feet. But she could see they were remembering fast and were very effectively cornering them into the alcove.

Tamlen had drawn his sword and he looked at her, giving her that 'Are you sure?' expression.

"If we cut off their heads they'll die, all right?"

"And, uh, who exactly told you that?" Tamlen asked nervously, backing further into the alcove.

"Stands to reason," Lyra said.

"There are two," he noticed more movement. "Make that three dead people with swords about to attack us. I don't think reason enters into it."

"Do it anyway," she hissed.

Then they heard it. The sound of stone rubbing on stone as the floor panel they had just stepped on shifted under their weight. Green fog poured into the alcove, obscuring their vision and making the air thick and hard to breath. As if on cue, the corpses attacked.

Lyra hacked at the limbs of the creatures, dodging the clumsy swing of the first attackers sword and bringing her dagger down hard across the arm that held it. The bone didn't even crack. _This isn't going to work,_ she thought. _The _dar'misu _are meant for stabbing lethal strikes, not hacking and slashing._ She glanced over to see Tamlen had pinned one of the creatures to the wall and was bashing at it with his shield, cracking and shattering bones. Gasping for breath she ducked under another swing and made a grab for the longsword the stricken corpse had dropped. It was too heavy for her, she would have to hold it in both hands, swinging it like a club, but maybe that was what she needed. She swung as hard as she could. The advancing corpse took the blow in the head which sent it flying into the opposite wall where it shattered when bone met rock. Tamlen had the last skeleton on the floor and was pummeling it with the pommel of his sword.

And then it was over. The green haze was slowly dissipating and all that was left was her and Tamlen, gasping for air, but alive. Blood was seeping from the bandage on Lyra's arm again, and Tamlen had a nasty looking scrape down the left side of his breastplate but it didn't seem to have broken through the armor. In fact, all either of them could find were small cuts and abrasions, a few bruises here and there but nothing that wouldn't heal.

Their eyes met and both laughed in the sudden realization that they were still alive. Breathing was already becoming easier as the green clouds vanished into nothing. Lyra sat down heavily against the wall beside the statue and Tamlen joined her.

"Smashing them to bits seemed to work pretty good," Tamlen said, still panting. "Didn't get a chance to try the head thing." he grinned at her and she laughed, which sent her into a fit of coughing as her lungs tried to expel the lingering toxin.

Lyra allowed him to redress the bandage on her arm and then said, "How could walking corpses be here?" Her gaze was still locked on the two corpses that had remained motionless, fully expecting them to attack at any moment.

Tamlen seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Haren Paivel once said that in places where many people died the place can be come _sethaneran_, the land of waking dreams. The veil becomes weak and spirits can slip into our world. Then they posses corpses and walk around." He looked at the bones around them and shuddered.

"You think lots of elves died here? You think that these," she gestured to the featureless corpses, "could have been elves?"

He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. "There's certainly enough bones. Maybe nobody was left to bury them." He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "Lets press on. I want to know how our people were involved in this." He walked towards the ornate double doors.

"Wait," Lyra said, stopping him in his tracks. "I want to know about this Veil first. Are there going to be more of these things in there?"

He turned back to her. "I'm no story teller. All I remember of the _haren's_ tales was that a veil separates our world from the spirit world. He said that spirits are jealous of us. And always try to steal our souls. They even try to posses our dead, which drives them insane." He looked around again, as his statement was evidenced by the corpses that had tried to attack them. Then he said thoughtfully, "For them to enter our world the veil must be weak. Is that why this place feels so strange?"

"Soo... There very well could be more of those things in there?" she sighed. "Why, exactly did you want to come down here so badly?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Aren't you curious?" he said, excitement creeping into his voice once again. "We could be discovering our history, minstrels will write songs about us." He saw the purposely expressionless look on her face and sighed. "Ok, ok. Maybe if I were to bring some valuable ancestral artifact back to the keeper she might forgive me for... well you know."

Lyra's features softened and she smiled at him. "Thanks for covering for me, by the way. I mean it."

"Of course," he grinned, "you know I'd do anything for you." He could feel the heat rising up his neck again. Why did she always do this to him? One look from her turned him into a blubbering idiot. It was fine when they were laughing and joking, but as soon as things got a little too deep... He coughed, "At any rate, I wasn't expecting this place to feel quite like this. Maybe this wasn't the best idea..."

"Oh? The walking corpses help you figure that out?" she laughed and lifted the heavy latch on the door.

The sound of the latch was muffled by a monstrous roar from the interior of the room that seemed to blow the doors wide open, knocking Lyra and Tamlen back. Inside was a creature like they'd never seen. It looked almost like a bear, only twice as big as any bear either of them had ever encountered, with spikes growing from its matted fur. Its eyes were sunken in but gleamed with an unnatural brightness. The beast rose up on its hind legs, its head almost touching the high ceilings, yellowed claws glinting in the torchlight. Thick ropes of saliva dripped from its fangs as it roared once more and then charged.

Tamlen was already pulling back an arrow on his bowstring as the monster bore down on Lyra. But she had her daggers ready. She would normally never go after even a normal bear with only daggers. Spears or arrows, something with range, but never get within the bears reach or he'll beat you around with his club-like paws then tear you apart with his talons. And what a reach this thing must have. But she didn't have any options. If she could get underneath the creature, avoiding the ham sized mitts, she might be able to strike at its throat... _And hope the thing doesn't fall down on top of you,_ she reminded herself.

It was too late to second guess herself further, the beast was on top of her, so tall she could almost stand up underneath it. She rolled out of the way as one of the paws smashed down on the stones where she had been. She slashed upwards but her blade cut only thick fur. The jaws snapped at her, and she dodged again. It was no good. With the bear focused looking down on her, its throat was too well protected. She slashed again and the beast caught the blade in its enormous jaws. She instantly let go of the hilt and heard the sickening creak of stressed metal as the jaws closed on the blade, crushing it.

Lyra glanced at Tamlen, who was firing arrows as fast as he could get them strung. His face was a mask of terror, not for himself, but for her. He could see her struggling underneath the beast. Watched its jaws close on one of her blades. The beast wasn't taking any notice of the arrows sticking out of its hide like porcupine quills. He caught her eye for an instant and knew. Throwing down the bow he drew his sword from its sheath and charged, screaming in a wordless mix of terror and rage.

He slashed at the beasts head and face, not even trying to do serious damage, just trying to hurt it. He had to get the beasts attention. He had to get it off of Lyra! He couldn't see her beneath the creature, didn't know if she was still there or if she was even still alive. He screamed again as he brought the blade sweeping across the beasts muzzle. It brought its head back and howled in pain, finally seeing him. Baring its teeth, it roared. Tamlen was so close he could feel the beasts hot breath, as flecks of spittle showered him with slime. _This thing is going to kill me_, he thought desperately as he backed away. He still couldn't see Lyra but the beast wasn't after her anymore. And to him, that's all that mattered.

The monster started for him and roared again, but stopped short, making a loud gurgling sound. Its head dropped and started hacking and convulsing horribly as if choking. Finally its legs gave way, and the beast crumpled, an ancient longsword sticking out from its throat.

Tamlen stared in shock for a moment, then ran for the beast and started yelling. "Lyra? Lyra! Answer me, _lethallan_! Lyra!" He heard a muffled sound from somewhere to the back of the beast. He saw an arm sticking out from under one of the creatures legs. Tears of worry streaming down his face, he heaved on the massive leg and managed to get it off the figure. Lyra's eyes were closed when he reached for her, smoothing her wild red hair away from her face. "Lyra?" he said quietly, afraid to wake her, but more afraid she would not wake. She slowly opened on bleary eye.

"What hit me?" she groaned, trying to struggle free from the mats of blood soaked fur that clung to her. "And," she looked up at him, "are you crying?" she asked incredulously.

"No," he said quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and trying to clear his throat of the lump that seemed stuck there. "Must have been that gas earlier. Messes with your eyes." He couldn't meet her gaze just then, and instead checked her for injuries. She had bruises almost everywhere. A few serious scratches on her back and one leg, but nothing seemed to be broken and most of the blood appeared to be from the beast.

"Can you walk?" he said finally. She nodded and he helped her to her feet. She stood awkwardly, leaning against him for support. He told himself he held her there those few extra seconds just to make sure she would be all right. He lied to himself like that a lot. "You sure you're all right?" he asked, before letting her go.

"I'm fine, Tamlen," she said, still watching him, her expression unreadable. Then she gave a half shrug. "If it makes you feel any better, I was scared shitless too."

Tamlen snorted, "I wasn't scared of that thing." He replayed those moments over in his mind, seeing her underneath the thrashing beast, the hot breath as it roared in his face, and watching it go down with her trapped below. There was only one of those moments that he wasn't truly terrified.

Lyra took hold of his arm, and he finally met her gaze. "I know," she said quietly. There was something more she needed to say, something about how he had just saved her life, how he had thrown himself at a raging beast so that she could live. She needed to tell him how much she loved him, but all she could say was, "I know."

Tamlen tried to clear his throat again. "Just so you know," he said finally, "Don't ever do that to me again. I thought you were... I thought..." He shook his head, gazing absently through the open doors. "I think I've just about had enough of this place. Come on, we're getting out of here..." His voice trailed off, eyes fixed on something inside the large chamber. She followed his gaze and saw a tiered dais in the middle of the room. Centered on that was an ornate mirror, like she had never seen. She started into the room but Tamlen held her back.

"Tamlen," she said, pointing toward the mirror. "This is what we've come here for. We're not turning back now." Every muscle in her body ached, the gashes on her back and leg burned with an unnatural fire. But they were so close...

Finally he nodded and let go of her arm. "But let me go first." His expression brooked no argument so she stepped aside and he moved cautiously toward the dais. Strange carvings adorned the mirror which seemed to be shining from within. Two robed figures stood on either side of the mirror, each giant statue holding a sword that in itself was taller than either of the elves. Intricate stonework designs wove themselves into delicate patterns at the height of the mirror. The overall effect was impressive and more than a little intimidating. The sculptures, glared down at them, swords at the ready. They looked like mages, judging from their robes. But that didn't make any sense. Mages with swords?

Tamlen's gaze was still focused on the mirror. She doubted he even noticed the menacing figures looming over them. "It's beautiful isn't it?" he said in something approaching awe. "I wonder what this writing says?" As they drew closer they could see symbols, possibly words etched into the mirrors frame.

"'Do not touch the glass'?" she suggested. The air in here was too still, as if something had been waiting here, all this time, just for them.

Tamlen laughed. "Not that we'd leave a fingerprint on it. See how clean it is? Not a single smudge or crack."

"And that doesn't worry you? Who knows how long its been here," she said, but he seemed to be ignoring her now.

"I wonder what this writing is for?" he said in a faraway voice. His brow creased. "Maybe this isn't... Hey, did you see that? I think something moved inside the mirror."

"I didn't see anything, Tamlen. This is wrong. Get away from it." A note of pleading edged her voice.

"Hold on," he brushed her off. "I just want to know what it is. Don't you see it? There it is again! Can you feel that? I think it knows we're here. I just need to take a closer look..." Lyra grabbed for his arm but he was already climbing the steps of the dais. Reluctantly, she followed.

"It's... showing me places. I can see... some kind of city... underground?" The mirror seemed to ripple as he reached out and gently grazed the surface. Lyra could hear a noise now too. She realized the low humming she had been hearing but not really noticing since they entered the room seemed to be coming from the mirror. It was getting louder now too and climbing in pitch and intensity.

"Tamlen?"

"And... theres a great blackness..." Tamlen went on, focusing intently on whatever the mirror was showing him. "It.. it saw me!" he said suddenly, eyes widening in horror. "Help! I can't look away!"

Tamlen was being dragged towards the mirror she reached for him desperately but her grasping fingers caught only air. She heard Tamlen scream as the humming rose to a crescendo, ravaging her eardrums, then there was a brilliant flash of white light. She felt herself being thrown off the dais, landing heavily on the stone floor, then blackness.


End file.
